


Anprim Hits The Gym

by Evil_Squirrel



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Gen, Gyms, i don't take constructive criticism, i saw fancy gyms only from photos and youtube videos and it shows, not a gym manual m'kay, one-sided anprim/homofash, only destructive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24477388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Squirrel/pseuds/Evil_Squirrel
Summary: Anprim decided to discover the secrets of modernity and make himself a hotter guy in the process.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Anprim Hits The Gym

Right now, Anprim was with Homonationalist and Transhumanist in a bit too bright room filled with too many people he didn't know (more than three), weird machines meant to replace natural movement and a weird mix of scents. All he knew was that this was a gym. The place he should apparently hit more. It was a change from his normal routine.

The thing is… he hated changes.

At first, he thought this would be fine. After all, he was the one who suggested this. If hitting the gym meant he would become a hotter guy then he should be doing it. It would also improve his understanding of modern people and what they would be giving up if they decided to join him. Sure, he heard something about curiosity killing cats, but he was sure that was only problem for cats and not for him.

Sooner that day, Homonationalist and Transhumanist visited him in the forest so they would pick him up and lead him to the place. To his annoyance, visiting the civilization meant some changes.

“Wear pants at least, you look pretty degenerate just like that,” Homonationalist said. Anprim was sure that the word ‘degenerate’ meant something bad, but Homonationalist always used it when he was pleased by something so he wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or not and he certainly didn’t ask because Anarcho-Primitivism no dumb man. When he put on the pants he felt a bit as it was restricting him from moving as freely as usual when he had only his loincloth.

“Beep boop, don’t worry. When we all become robots, we won’t have to wear pants anymore,” Transhumanist said, but the thought of becoming a robot actually made Anprim worry even more.

“You know you are going to exercise and not hit the building, right?” Homonationalist asked with a really mean grin when they arrived.

“Of course I know.” It wasn’t his fault that people couldn’t express themselves directly anymore and had to invent stupid ways to say things. 

When they told him to take his clothes off in that one room, he was happy because he thought he was going to be freed, but then he found out he was just supposed to wear another set of clothes. And shoes. Also, socks for some reason. No wonder modern people were so unhappy when they were separated from the – remade with some modern stuff anyway, but still – ground by something that confined their feet like that.

Now, he was in a room full of weird machines that created some sort of black unnatural roads people ran on. Why? When he wanted to run, he would just run through the forest or around it, why running in one place? Is this what modernity does to people? This is what the Unabomber fought against!

“That’s not what you need,” Homonationalist said after he finished taking photos for his social media thing. “You have to lift some weight. But first, you will have to do the warm-up. Move a bit.”

Homonationalist gave him no instructions how his warm-up should look like so he decided to do the tribal dance. Usually, the sound of forest would serve as background, but he had to be satisfied with the sound of panting of tired people, music from people’s magical things and the sound of steps. Transhumanist joined him. He may have not gotten the rhythm, but he’s got the spirit.

“What you do outside anyway, Transhumanist?” he asked while waving off evil ghosts.

“Exercising lowers my chances of dying before I get the robot dick, beep boop. But it can also be the cause of my death, beep boop.” Transhumanist stopped. “Oh no.”

“Dying natural! Everyone will die, you too. Don’t worry, I – or somebody else – will dance the tribal mourning dance for you!” Anprim was now stepping at the evil gnomes stealing small items. “Look, this is what modern society did to you! You so removed from the natural way of life, you afraid of dying!”

“Stop being cringy, people might be looking.” Homonationalist returned from somewhere which was also how Anprim noticed Homonationalist had disappeared. “What are you even talking about?”

“I might accidentally kill myself by exercising, beep boop.” Transhumanist was staring at the exit as if he wanted to run away. Homonationalist sighed.

“Look, you are not alone here. It’s possible something bad happens and if it does, somebody will call an ambulance.”

“But you stare at the phone all the time and Anprim is Anprim, so…”

“If I have the phone out all the time, I can call the ambulance immediately!” Homonationalist said and then whispered: “Or I could find some sexy doctor…”

“Before you swipe right, I’ll be dead!” Transhumanist was waving his arms in a weird way, almost like a robot.

“I see you’re both heated so let’s move on.” Homonationalist led them to another room. "Good that there are not too many people right now." Still enough to attack us, Anprim thought. 

They went into another room, with no of these roadmakers, but with some other equipment, and went for some dumbbells. Now came the time Anprim and Transhumanist were picking weight that would be enough for them while Homonationalist spent his time on the phone. This cursed thing, stealing time of one of his friends (or were they friends?), making weird sounds and shining so brightly it was no surprise so many modern people had to wear glasses.

“You know how big we need?” Anprim whispered to Transhumanist.

“Don’t ask me about dumbbells, beep boop, I’m usually doing cardio.” Why was he even asking anyway? It must’ve been common knowledge since Homonationalist told them nothing about it and another dude just picked some weight without thinking. If he wanted big muscles, he needed big dumbbells. He wasn’t really sure how much they weighted since kilograms were modern technology needed to be stoned after the Industrial counter-revolution.

“Great. Now we can start!” Homonationalist said, picking a set of dumbbells too. What about his warm-up though? Did he do something else when he checked there? “Copy me!” And they did.

He was moving the dumbbell with his arm the way he saw Homonationalist doing it. Aimlessly, as if he was mechanical. As if he was changing into the robot Transhumanist promised him to become. Robots probably knew better than him which weight to pick, as he was having more and more trouble lifting it. When he thought about it, if the other people in the gym became robots, they probably wouldn’t notice it. Furthermore, they might welcome it. Is there any hope for humanity left? Wasn’t Posadist right all along?

When he thought about it, he could as well lift stones he would’ve found somewhere. He could as well climb the trees. And there were people who would appreciate his runner’s bod, so why was he even trying?

And how he told him back then that he doesn’t look like he would survive in the wild – how would he know what does a survivor look like? Homonationalist himself would’ve survived only if he offered his body warmth to another, more competent person. And that more competent person could be Anprim.

“Great job, first set done!” Homonationalist seemed to not break a sweat at all, but that might’ve been because of those small dumbbells.

“How many sets are we doing?” Transhumanist asked, panting.

“Three, of course! It's always three, trust me!”

“Are you even a trainer or something?” Anprim looked at Transhumanist with raised eyebrows. How come neither of them asked him before?

“No, but I dated one.” Does this mean qualified among modern people? That’s stupid! If he slept with the tribe elder, it wouldn’t mean he would become one!

The other two sets went on faster than he thought, even though at the end it felt that his arms would fall off. Homonationalist, still full of energy, consisted on doing another exercise for arms, this time lifting the dumbbells above their heads. Anprim imagined himself trying to scare off a leader of another tribe which was what helped him to get through. After these three sets done, he wondered if modern people already had replacements for shoulders.

Another exercise they did required them starting with holding a dumbbell behind their neck and extending arms. Almost as if they were throwing large stones at their enemies. Actually, maybe not quite like that, but stoning enemies was an essential activity and imagining he did this helped him. At one point, the dumbbell nearly flew out of his arms and he stopped himself at the last moment from actually throwing it. Homonationalist didn’t seem to notice.

“Normally, I would say something about splitting your workouts, but I don't know if you come again so let's do legs too! Trust me, I know what I'm doing!”

Homonationalist went on about something about different weights, upper body and lower body, but Anprim didn’t really pay attention. While his dumbbells seemed too heavy, his legs might be stronger than his arms and also, choosing lighter weights was for pussies who wouldn’t fight off a tiger.

As he found out soon, they felt too heavy even for his legs. He went through the exercise called 'lunges' somehow, but now he was supposed to be squatting with them. He had trouble imagining any reason to be squatting like this with something, but then he just decided the dumbbell is a baby that would be sacrificed to the sun god and he’s fulfilling its last wishes. Kid just wanted to be squatted. No worries, the sun god will take him eventually.

“Well, time to stretch!” They started stretching and, to be honest, Anprim was glad they got to do something calm. As they were standing on one leg each, Transhumanist lost his balance, flailing his arms and accidentally nearly dragging Anprim and Homonationalist to the ground.

“Beep boop, I’m sorry.” Nothing serious happened, but had this taken place in nature, this sort of thing could be a question of life or death, Anprim noted and he didn’t let his guard down for the rest of stretching.

“Why you change clothes all time?” he asked after being forced to take a shower and then being instructed he shouldn’t put the clothes he exercised in back on.

“Because it’s sweaty,” Homonationalist said as if it was something obvious.

“You are afraid of your sweat?” Anprim shook his head. “You are really slaves of fashion industry. What purpose do even socks have?”

“If they make you uncomfortable, how about trying yoga class next time?” Transhumanist asked. “Sure, it’s not really lifting weights, but it could be fun.”

Did he want to visit the gym again, though? It seemed, as most places made by modern people did, pointless in its existence, only there to give people illusion that they could be somehow living a fulfilling life. It even gave him illusion that by lifting weirdly shaped things he will become desirable enough for Homonationalist. Even if he did that, Homonationalist wouldn’t look up from his phone. By even trying to fit his standards, Anprim became for some time another one of slaves of the modern society. Maybe Grugette was concerned for a reason. Maybe his new friends were really spoiling him with modernity.

Lifting rocks with tribe pals is more fun, he thought as he finally freed himself from the oppressive clothes when he returned.


End file.
